Ninja (20 page)

And also the route that the pursuers either did not know or would not take. Anyway, it was getting dark. The light, almost blocked by the overarching canopy, faded into a sunset glow. Perhaps they had also heard of the local species of salamander, which haunts the pools and backwaters, and can grow up to two meters long. So they invented, or were given, a good reason to retreat. Perhaps it was the red sky and the name of the falls—Akame (Red Eye), after the red-eyed cow seen by En when he first came—that suggested a nightmare vision. Suddenly—you can almost hear them heightening the fear in their voices as they report back to their senior officer—everything got really red and a huge snake appeared, and that was why they could not continue the chase. And that is why today the recently built path upward, with steps and a wooden bridge climbing over the cliffs and tumbling water, is called Holy Snake Pass.

The fugitives got away safely and ended up in Ieyasu's territory the other side of Nagoya, 130 kilometers to the east. There, perhaps because they were no longer a threat, they were well received and allowed to return home—a generous gesture by Ieyasu that would have interesting consequences.

Defeat brought a sudden end to the old ways of Iga and also an end to the commune system. Iga city was given to a lord named T
o
d
o
Takatora, who had rendered good service during the invasion. He built a fine castle on top of the hill, which still dominates the town today. On a tidal wave of well-shaped stone, a place of overlapping gray roofs and glorious beams overlooks a large open space where, during festivals, schoolchildren practice their archery. It is, as Ieyasu himself said, a treasure. It is a focal point, a symbol of power, where there had been neither before, and a clear statement that the old days were over for good.

But the memories live on, and so do many of the families. By chance, I came across descendants of two of the families, Takino and Momochi.

Takino survived, not to fight another day but to negotiate a truce, settle back into farming, marry, and produce many children. So, said Tomimori as we left the woods that covered Takino's earthworks, that's why many people living in the village today are called Takino. “You see the man who is cutting the rice over there? He's a Takino.” He looked up and called, “Takino! This man has come from England to see your ancestor's fort!”

It was in the little village of Akame, where tourists enter the path leading up the Forty-Eight Waterfalls, that the cheerful old restaurant owner, Ueda Masaru, led me into his attic and showed me the suits of ninja armor inherited from his grandmother. And his grandmother, remember, had been a Momochi, a descendant of the Momochi Sandayu who had escaped from Takino's fort when it was surrendered to Oda Nobunaga.

Names, shrines, temples, memorials—all recalled what happened here in the autumn of 1581. There is at least one enclave where life seems remarkably unchanged. A winding road led uphill through woodland and down into a secluded valley, where, among a patchwork of terraced rice fields and up a driveway, stood the house of my dreams, should I ever dream of living in Japan. A curly-tiled porch with heavy wooden doors led to a Zen-style courtyard: a little pond, fringed with sun-dappled, autumnal bushes, gravel, and rocks, on one of which lay a contemplative black cat. The house with its two wings held the garden as a setting holds a jewel. It was a jewel itself—all dark wood and blue-gray tiles, perfect in its plainness.

As with other works of art, its simple beauty was maintained by hard work, at the hands of the man who now appeared from a garage beside the driveway, dressed in dusty T-shirt, jeans, and muddy boots. He had one of the most strikingly beautiful—there's no other word—faces I had seen in any man, let alone one in his fifties. This was Momochi Mikyo, another descendant of Momochi Sandayu.
⁴
The Momochi family had owned this house then and still own it now. One of the larger stones in the garden recorded the link, and added:
THIS
WAS
PUT
UP
IN
MEMORY
OF
THE
350
TH
ANNIVERSARY
OF
THE
IGA
REVOLT
, in 1931. Momochi had the self-contained dignity that you often find in long-established families. They know who they are, they know where they belong, and they work to preserve their house, their family, their inheritance. Momochi was a gardener by profession. His garage was crammed with bits of machinery, the driveway littered with tires, boxes, bins, a wheelbarrow, an old bathtub. It was lucky he happened to be in, and lucky that Noriko had called ahead to explain my interest. He stopped work and talked.

“Yes, the house was built before the Iga Revolt. Well, the tiles and the outer walls have been replaced, but the inside is as it was.” Its survival was remarkable, considering this was an earthquake-prone area, but the structure clearly helped. “It was built in the old-fashioned way, without nails,” he said, which allowed it to flex. Tiles may fall, but the heart remains firm.

I asked: “Did your family tell you many stories of the Iga Revolt?”

“Oh, many.”

“So what happened when the castle surrendered?”

“We don't know exactly. There is no documentary evidence. But Momochi Sandayu was definitely in there with Lord Takino when they negotiated an end to the siege with Oda Nobunaga. They say he killed three hundred people a day.” (Or was it perhaps just one day, which would fit the numbers better?) “Sandayu must have got away, because I'm here, the nineteenth generation from him. They both survived, even though the two of them had been part of the force that had defeated his son seven years earlier.”

The two families remained close. Indeed, as Momochi said, all the old families married together. “My mother,” he said, nodding at an ancient, stooped figure walking with some difficulty across the courtyard, “she is a Takino.”

The ninja past is not just present in the tree-covered mounds of the old forts, the shrines and temples, and the names. It's in the genes.

ILLUSTRATIONS

T
HE
O
RIGINAL
M
AN IN
B
LACK

A traditional image of the lithe, black-coated ninja published by the great Hokusai in 1817. This featured in a series of martial arts drawings, part of the thousands of naturalistic, three-color prints that form the fifteen-volume Hokusai Manga (Hokusai's Sketches).

(Ninja sketch by Katsushika Hokusai, 1817)

S
HUGEND
O
: T
RAINING FOR
P
URITY

The ninjas often undertook training to hone minds as well as bodies. They shared the training with the adepts of Shugend
o
(
yamabushi
, mountain ascetics), who isolated themselves in mountains to follow tough regimens of purification. Today's Shugend
o
rituals, combining elements of Shintoism, shamanism, and Buddhism, recall the ancient beliefs to which ninjas were exposed.

In this Shugend
o
fire-ceremony on Mount Iwao, the leading priest wears ancient regalia—little black hat, riband, and staff.

The conch, used to summon good deities and banish bad ones, is the shell of a giant sea snail. When the end is cut off, it can be blown like a bugle, either with or without a mouthpiece.

The bonfire of cedar branches is to honor the local dragon god and burn prayers for health and good luck.

I
GA AND
K
O
GA
: L
AND OF
H
ILLS AND
F
ORESTS

The ninja heartland of Iga and K
o
ga (centered on today's Iga Ueno in Mie Prefecture and K
o
ka in Shiga Prefecture) are set apart by forested mountains, yet well positioned close to Japan's old capital, Kyoto, and right on the T
o
kaid
o
, the main coastal road to Tokyo. Ninja skills derived from a sturdy independence, which kept both regions free of warlords.

This ancient lantern marked a pass on the T
o
kaid
o
, where it breasted the Suzuka Hills between old K
o
ga and Iga.